Unrequited
by Delta Immortal
Summary: Russia asks for some advice, and it was not really the words he wanted to hear.


Unrequited

A/N: To my own little Latvia.

…………

"Mr. Russia, I don't think you should tell him. He might be creeped out and try to flee from you." Lithuania's voice rang through Russia's head, terrified and trembling, but honest.

Russia turned to Lithuania, smiling, trying not to get angry. "Am I creepy, Lithuania?" he asked, closing his eyes. The panic was instant. He could even hear the shaking before it happened.

"It's not that you are creepy," Lithuania tried again, "but Mr. Russia, I don't think he feels the same way, and you do scare him."

Russia could feel himself get angry. "I am scary?"

And right as he was about to start chanting his regular Kolkolkolkol, he could hear the Latvian's words. "Mr. Russia is scary! I want to leave!"

Maybe Lithuania was right after all. The knowledge sunk in and ate at his heart- who would have thought that out of all the tormentees, he would fall for Latvia. Latvia! The tiny, weakling of a country, one too weak to even age properly! The trembling airhead who told Russia what he thought exactly despite what Ivan would feel.

Strangely, Russia would feel a sad sort of pride with it. Of course, Latvia had to be punished- but still, being honest was so refreshing. The poking and the prodding- how could he not do that? When Latvia offered those squeaks, how could he not take advantage of them?

It had been hard not to say anything. The time was not right, not when Latvia was still a child, though a child with hundreds of years under his belt. When Latvia grew older, maybe, Ivan had hoped, they might be able to change rooms- they might be able to share a bed- but for now, Russia could wait. He was a patient country, waiting out General Winter year after year. He also waited out the servants of his house- none of them were dead, were they?

"Thank you, Lithuania," Russia told him, letting his rage go and holding onto the logic that remained. Lithuania had been honest- that was all he could expect. And really, he had known better than to fall in love with anyone!

"I-I'm sorry, Russia," Lithuania said. "I'm sure one day, someone will appreciate your creepiness-"

"Get out," Russia told him sharply, his aura reading of many Kols and Lithuania screamed and ran, shutting the door.

His creepiness? No one would ever accept his _creepiness_. He angry looked at the fire, watching it burn with some degree of satisfaction. No one would ever love Russia.

Some time must have passed, for he heard a small knock on the door.

His heart jumped, and he knew who it was. What an idiot he was being, now that he thought about it. Allowing something that looked like a small hamster to wiggle its way into his heart? This was not like Russia at all. Still, he couldn't deny the relief his heart had at seeing Latvia's face.

"Come in, Latvia," he allowed, and Latvia came in, a bottle of vodka- _Vodka!_- in his hand.

"Um… Mr. R-r-r-russia," Latvia began, trembling.

How could he not find this adorable?

"Come closer, Latvia. Is there a reason you have brought me vodka?"

"U-u-u-um…" Latvia was shaking even harder, the vodka threatening to spill from his hands at any moment. When he was close enough, Russia took the bottle from him and petted his head. Had Latvia been thinking of him? Did he think that the vodka would help his mood? Well, not tonight, but how sweet-

Latvia wasn't being sweet. Latvia was looking out for himself. That's right, Russia remembered, Latvia does not fawn over you.

"Hey, Latvia," Russia asked softly, rubbing the smaller boy's hair. "Why are you so small?"

Latvia squeaked, not wanting a repeat of a performance that was still in his mind. "B-b-b-because-"

"It's okay, Latvia. You don't have to answer."

The look of relief was worth it. A small moment of happiness passed over Latvia's face, and Russia felt his heart twist. His hands left Latvia's head, though they did not want to, they did.

Latvia squeaked again and Russia smiled at him. "Latvia," he said in a sing-song voice, one he knew Latvia would pay attention to. "Do not bring me vodka again until you are eighteen at least."

Latvia squeaked again before running off. While it wasn't a dismissal exactly, it was fine. Russia threw the vodka into the fire- far enough away to watch it burn safely, but close enough that he felt it might burn away this feeling.


End file.
